


security in the face of change

by Cypherr



Series: Racooninnit brainrot go brrrrrrr [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon? I dont know her, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Hybrid TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), I don't know what the fuck this is, I dont know how it keeps happening, IS HERE, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Pack Dynamics, Past Abuse, Racooninnit brainrot go brrrr, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), edward the enderman, hes very pog, i have so many other drafts in need to work on, i need to stop writing evil tubbo, i think???????, i typed this up in just a few hours today y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28542642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cypherr/pseuds/Cypherr
Summary: Tommy knew something was up by the second day of his exile, but he was the king of denial, and by Notch, he was not going to acknowledge that anything was amiss.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Racooninnit brainrot go brrrrrrr [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2099037
Comments: 46
Kudos: 1122





	security in the face of change

**Author's Note:**

> I sat down to finish both my next agere oneshot and try and get some more work done on 'the duality of man.' It's now 11PM and this is all I have to show. I don't know what the fuck happened. All I know is that I now have 'raccoon noises' 'angry raccoon noises' 'what do raccoons eat' and, for some fucking reason, 'how many hearts do pigs have' in my search history. I really don't know what the last one was about.

Tommy knew something was up by the second day of his exile. He was, understandably, alone and not the cleanest as the past couple of days had been rough, but he didn't think the incessant itching of his hears and backside was necessarily warranted. He, however, was a stubborn bastard, and that meant that, as long as it wasn't keeping him from getting shit done, it did not matter. Nether, it might as well have not even been there, as far as Tommy's denial is concerned.

A week into exile, when his hands and feet ached far more than usual- to the point where he struggled to toss Dream his armor and follow the admin around- he should have known that something was still very, very wrong. Tommy, however, was still in adamant denial that anything was amiss, so he trudged on as if nothing was different. He was really quite skilled in the art of denial.

By the third week, when his nails had since turned razor sharp and black, the pads of his fingers had grown far more callous, and the skin of his hands had greyed, he thought nothing of it. He also thought nothing of the fur on the tips of his ears or the red hot pain coming from his tailbone. As long as he refused to acknowledge these facts, they could not hurt him. He continued on as if everything was normal- and it was. What he did not accept, did not exist.

When his teeth ached and his canines fell out two days after it had started, he did not panic. When Dream asked, he said he had taken a nasty fall. When they replaced themselves, wickedly sharp and almost longer than his mouth could contain, the top and bottom pair stacking atop each other, he simply refused to think about it.

He ignored the purrs he emitted when Dream would hold him close or pet his hair, assuring him that he was the _only_ one that cared for Tommy. Dream was a good friend. ~~He liked being pet~~.

Maybe, though, he should have not listened to the insistent voice in the back of his head that urged him to squirrel things away- especially particularly shiny things. He had thought nothing of it, as he did every other 'strange' occurrence, but Dream had found his stash and his friend was mad. Dream was screaming his disappointment at him- said that he had _trusted_ Tommy. Said that Tommy had _betrayed_ him. ~~He wouldn't. He would never betray his pack.~~

Tommy whined, high in his throat and outstandingly squeaky, ~~elongated, fluffy ears pressed flat against his skull while the beginnings of a tail flicked behind him.~~

"You don't get to be upset, Tommy. I _trusted_ you, and you went behind my back." He keened and whimpered out apologies, desperately trying to show the man how sorry he was as he hooked his ~~claws~~ fingers into the sweatshirt the man wore. He was torn away, though, shoved to the ground with a harsh kick, and he stayed there, cowering in fear as Dream destroyed his nether portal and blew up everything he had worked for. He stayed curled up on the burnt, blackened grass at the edge of the crater that used to be Logstedshire, clawing at every inch of skin he could reach, whining and sobbing apologies to empty air, Dream already long gone.

By the time the sun had set, his tears had run dry and the blood that coated him had caked. He hauled himself up, grabbing the few remaining items around the campsite. He towered up with the little he had found, managing to bridge amove the clouds before he ran out of material.

It was cold sitting far up above the clouds and the air was thin, but it was comforting, in a way. He had felt cold and empty for so long, his body wasting away in exile while ~~he changed~~ he let himself be put under Dream's thumb. The view of his demolished home was almost cathartic, having seen a sight so similar once before. The memory brought back a spark of hope. He remembered the cheer everyone had felt once the Withers had ven defeated and Techno had run off into the distance. The world around them had been blown sky high, and it smelt of blood, decay, and gunpowder, but they had won, despite their heavy losses. They had won their home back. It made his current situation ache that much more. He knew he'd never get to experience that joy again. He had no one- not even Dream. Not really. Friends aren't there just to watch you. Friends don't blow up your hard earned things. Friends don't hit friends. (Tubbo hit him a lot in the days leading up to his exile. Did that mean that Tubbo wasn't his friend? Was it just that Tommy deserved it? Was Tommy a bad friend?)

He was halfway down the pillar, claws embedded deep into the dirt and logs he had used to build it, by the time he had shaken himself from his mental spiral. He quickly scrambled the rest of the way down, shoving the reminder that something was _wrong_ with him down until he could no longer remember why he had even built the tower in the first place. He did know, however, that he needed to _go._

He grabbed all that he could salvage, which, wasn't much, but there was a chest a ways out with a bit of spare armor and a few cow hides- enough to keep him semi-warm in the tundra. He knew, logically, that the tundra was harsh and unforgiving, but it was the only way forward. The only way away from Dream. Away from the reminder that L'manburg was just an ocean away.

He trudged through the ankle deep snow, gathering what little he could find on the way- just sticks, mainly. He was on the lookout for a cave to stow away om for the night as the sky continued to darken, painting the snowy dunes around him in lavish hues of reds, oranges, and yellows. As the last dredges of sunlight faded into an inky black and the groaning of mobs echoed around him, though, he'd yet to find even a divot in the side of a hill. His legs were numb and he couldn't feel his feet anymore. ( ~~He had to stop wearing shoes when his feet had _changed_. His legs were all fucking _weird_ and bowed and _definitely_ not human, and his feet were black and fuzzy and tipped with claws, padded with the same, pink callous flesh as his fingertips. Shoes didn't _fit_.~~ He had lost his shoes a while back in Logstedshire.) His skin ached as the freezing wind nipped at it through his raggedy, torn clothes. The cow hides themselves weren't doing much for warmth, but it kept a bit of the wind off, so he was thankful.

He could still feel his strength waning, though, as if the cold was sapping it away with every step. In reality, it was a combination of things, including but not limited to the fact that he had not been allowed to eat in nearly a week now, the fact that he had not had any real strength to speak of since he had been exiled, ~~the fact that his body transforming was taking ups o much of the energy he didn't have,~~ and the fact that he had been trudging through the tundra for _miles_.

On the horizon, he could see a faint smoke trail, ~~thanks to his improved eyesight during the dark hours of the night.~~ He nearly sagged in relief, but he knew if he stopped now, he'd never muster up the energy to keep going- he was already in debt when it came to motivation. He trekked onwards, clawing his way through the freshly lain snow, nearly tripping more times than he'd care to admit.

As his vision began to blacken around the edges and he lost feeling in his arms, he was hauling himself up the stone steps of the cozy cabin. The lights inside were off, but there was a roaring fire- as evidenced by the smoke that still rose steadily into the sky from the house's chimney. He half collapsed against the door when he opened it, thanking Notch, Herobrine, and anyone else who might listen, that it had been unlocked. He barely managed to get the heavy wood to shut, metal handle clanking as it bounded back against its frame, before he collapsed in front of the hearth. There was an enderman there, a name that wrapped around his next with the name 'Edward' written in neat, looping handwriting. The creature gazed softly at him, its bright, magenta eyes comforting, though he knew, in the mack of his mind, that humans could not stare into the eyes of the End creatures without repercussions. It was a good thing he was still an expert in the art of denial.

The beast trilled softly, a clawed hand finding his matted, ash stained, blonde locks and carding through them, carefully untangling any knots. He burred, chittering in an unknown reply when the enderman would speak to him, his body slowly leaning into the comforting touch and the cold yet soothing frame of the chained entity. Edward was nice. He liked Edward.

He was shaken awake by the slamming of the front door, the cabin feeling as if it were shaking from the impact. The sound startled him, and he hissed instinctively, teeth bared, burying himself further into the lap of the enderman who was still calm and comforting him with gentle motions through his hair. His fuzzy, striped tail that was nearly the length of his body was ramrod straight and puffed, his ears flat as he scanned the area for what had awoken him from the first peaceful sleep he's had in _months_.

As it turns out, it was the one and only Technoblade, because of _course_ this was his cabin. The piglin stared at him, ruby eyes wide, framed by his iron helmet. Why would Technoblade be in iron? Chancing a look down, he saw that not only was the anarchist in an iron helmet, but he was in a full suit of iron armor that looked like it had taken quite the beating. He had a single netherite pick stained with blood gripped tight by his side, and he hopes the white speck he can see stuck to a patch of dried crimson isn't a tooth like he thinks it is.

Tommy, what the fuck are you doing in my house?" Techno's deceptively calm tone was betrayed by the way his body was tensed and his face was creased in lines of- was it agitation? Concern? Confusion? Tommy couldn't tell.

He was about to hiss again, still high on hybrid instinct, when Edward trilled softly, seeming to be trying to communicate with Technoblade, now. He could still feel the steady rise and fall of the creature's bony chest, its magenta claws still carding through his now untangled locks like it was natural. Techno's shoulders slumped, his face relaxing and he snorted, the cool air coming from his snout visible. Oh- he hadn't even realized that the fire had gone out. How long had he been asleep?

"What happened, Tommy?" Techno's voice was gentle, the rasp that always accompanied his words welcoming instead of accusing. It was a simple question, one that he could reasonably answer, but he couldn't open his mouth to speak. His tongue caught in his throat as memories of the past couple of months flew through his head. He choked, the sound actually managing to escape his lips as unbidden tears sprang to his stormy eyes, the blue that they once held long gone. He felt pathetic, with his own tail curled around his middle, taking in the comfort of an enderman gladly because he'd become so touch starved, and breaking down in front of _the Technoblade_.

Techno seemed to panic, his ears flaring and causing his numerous golden piercings to clank and jangle, and he stepped forward cautiously, hooves scraping against the spruce floors of his cabin, arms held out to his sides. hands emptied.

"Hey, hey, Tommy, it's okay?" Techno tried, voice wavering with uncertainty. Edward hissed as one of his salty tears landed on his scaly leg, and he chittered softly in apology, even in his broken state. He covered his eyes with the torn, barely held together sleeves of his once-favorite shirt. The tears stung the gouges he had forgotten he had put there, along with the multitude of burns and bruises he had received from Dream, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He was so fucking _stupid_. What had he been _thinking_ when he had run? Dream was going to find him and kill him- or, more likely, make him with Dream would be merciful enough to kill him.

"I- I'll leave, I swear. I didn't take anything! Jus- just please don't tell Dream you saw- saw me," He hiccupped, flinching when the piglin crouched in front of him.

"You're safe here, Tommy. I promise," Techno spoke, confidence back in his tone, but it was lined with something else- something he couldn't place. He flinched again when Techno's calloused hand replaced Edward's ice cold one, but he leaned into the warmth, eyes shutting as he purred, forgetting that he should be in _danger_. He was _tired_ and _scared_ and every new, suppressed, hybrid instinct was during forward, telling him that the two mobs he was in the room with meant _safety_.

He reached forward, desperately clutching on to Techno's white dress shirt, tearing holes in the silky material with his claws. He whined, the sound originating in the back of his throat and came out broken and high pitched. He let Techno gather him in his arms, letting the soft trills. twitters, and mrrps from Edward reassure him as he curled into the new source of comfort. Techno smelt faintly of blood and sick, twisted magic, but he also smelt of pine and sweet berries, freshly fallen show and ocean mist.

He whimpered when he was sat on a table, the warmth of Techno's body heat leaving him. He returned, though, bandages and salves held in his scarred arms. The piglin was more gentle than he'd ever seen, with soft grips and reassuring grunts when he'd dig too far into a cut or press too hard into a bruise or burn. Techno didn't even mind the scratches that managed to tear into his hide when he accidentally hurt Tommy, and the warmth he radiated reminded him of the Nether and her roiling seas of lava that always looked so peaceful and welcoming.

For the first time in months, his instincts were settled and his mind was peacefully numb, allowing himself to bend to every whim it desired, which, for the moment, was to stay right here in Technoblade's cabin, safe from the world with two much stronger, older mobs to protect him.

~

"Tommy, get out from behind the fucking furnace and give me my gapples back," Techno drawled, staring down at him from where he had wedged himself in the small space between the warm stone and the cold wall, shiny, shimmering, golden apples clutched in his claws. He grinned up at his brother, his tail wagging behind him unintentionally. He liked this game, after all. It was much more fun than when he and Dream played it. And, he usually got to keep at least some of the things that he stole! He had a really shiny diamond chest plate now in his stash in his basement room that he'd carved for himself that he liked to stare at sometimes. Not to mention the tools he'd been allowed to keep, as well- all of them enchanted!

"At least give me back my gapples, you damned raccoon," the piglin sighed, running a hand over his snout.

"I'm not a raccoon, bitch," Tommy pouted, ears drooping at the insinuation that he was anything but human. Techo just reached down and yanked at his tale, a startled and somewhat pained yelp falling from his lips.

"Right, completely human. My bad," he deadpanned, ruby eyes seeming to bore into his very soul.

"I am!" He barked, although it was slightly off, coming from the back of his throat and sounding nasally. "I'm dad's only human son!"

"Uh huh."

"Bitch," he huffed, handing Techno back the gapples, keeping a few stashed away in his inventory, knowing he at least deserved a _bit_ of the loot he'd stolen fair and square. Techno just rolled his eyes, his brother leaving him be behind the furnace.

He liked small, dark, cramped spots more than he'd like to admit- it's why he dug under Techno's house instead of claiming or building a room upstairs. His burrow- his den- was _safe_ , and it settled a part deep inside of him- the part that made him horde the objects he liked and made him an expert at sleuthing through Technoblade's chests. It's the part that also shrieked in joy when he got to be near Techno and or Edward, the two mobs becoming a sort of pack- one he hadn't known he'd been missing. He missed dad and Wilbur, though. He wanted to scorn their names and even spit on Wilbur's grave most days, but his heart still ached for them. He missed Tubbo, too, although he still wasn't sure how to feel about him. He wasn't sure how to feel about Dream, either.

Techno had said that what Dream did to him was wrong, but Tubbo had been very similar in the days leading up to his exile, and even at times turning the Manburg-Pogtopia war and the Revolutionary war. Tubbo was his best friend, so why was what Dream did wrong? Sure, Tubbo had never destroyed his things like Dream did, but that was really the only thing that was different. They both said that they had wanted to keep him safe, but he was always hurt in the end. Did Tommy not deserve friends?

But, Techno was good to him. Techno played with him in the snow when he got too excited and couldn't control his energy. He let him hide and keep what he had earned, and even most things that he didn't. He treated his wounds and he felt like _safety_. Edward, the enderman the Techno had since freed to amble about the house, felt safe as well. Edward would trill or murmur softly to him throughout the day, and would even play hide and seek with him. He'd hand him shiny blocks that he'd find, knowing that Tommy would love them. The End creature was kind- kinder than both Tubbo and Dream had been, and he was supposedly a monster.

Were humans the problem? As much as he liked to stay in his stare of denial, still unwilling to accept that he was different from what he'd come to know of himself over the years, he was still very much a hybrid. Sure, Techno and Edward were full-blooded mobs, but he wasn't fully human. Tubbo and Dream were. Fundy and Quackity had been the ones to try and stand up for him on the day of his exile- they weren't human. Nili had been like his older sister, taking care of him been from a distance during the era of Manburg, sending him sweets and health potions she'd brewed for him. She wasn't human. Ranboo had visited him, defended him. He wasn't human.

"Tommy?" Techno's voice rang from above him. When Tommy looked up, all he could see was worry and concern etched into his harsh features- even the way his tusks protruded screamed anxiety. He blinked back tears he hadn't known were gathering, clearing his vision.

"What?" He asked, words quiet in fear of disturbing whatever atmosphere had been created.

"You smelled distressed, Toms," Techno spoke, voice low, the nickname Wilbur had started calling him when he was sic rolling off of his tongue as if he were breathing. Tommy looked down, fiddling with his hands, worried that he had upset his brother with his carelessness- his inability to control his feelings.

"Come here, little one," the piglin whispered, and Tommy listened, crawling out from his hidey hole and into Techno's awaiting arms. He felt small, stupid, and childish, falling prey to such nicknames and hiding in his brother's arms, as if they'd keep away his own thoughts. But, the animal part of his brain, it screamed safety and comfort. It screamed pack and _home_. It screamed that he was _meant_ to be protected, to be held close with gentle arms and caring actions until he was old enough, learned enough, to be out on his own. He could hear Techno's heartbeat, strong and steady, from where he had smooshed his face against his chest. He could hear Edward's soft mrrps from across the room, and he knew he was safe. Knew he was loved. And maybe, just maybe, he'd be okay with the idea of being not quite human.

**Author's Note:**

> lmao okay, I'm going to try and explain some of the dynamics I totally bullshitted during this. So the whole Edward thing, I just really like Endermen, first off, but there's that one head cannon that endermen were once players that got corrupted by the end or something???? So I wanted to play off of that, and that's why Edward is kind to Tommy (and Techno) when other mobs arent. There's ALSO the HC that they hate when players look in their eyes because they communicate telepathically that way, but humans have no resistance to that so they just kind of end up projecting their thoughts onto the poor mob, so I was like THAT but Hybrids/other mobs don't accidentally do that.  
> I also had this idea in my head that hybrids and full-blooded mobs get along swimmingly because they've both been shunned and wronged by humans throughout history, so THAT'S a thing.


End file.
